Maybe This Summer
by OleandersThrive
Summary: Castiel's senior year was to be a little different than past years. But the first day back was expected to be it's usual unremarkableness. Until Dean, a faded childhood friend, speaks to him again. Only to find the Dean found out something he wasn't supposed to know thanks to an older brother of Cas's. But, maybe this won't be so bad? (High School AU, I'm sucker for them)
1. Chapter 1

Maybe senior year wasn't what I thought it's going to be. I just watched my brother Gabriel drive away, the back end scrapping the dip of the school lot. He was furious I woke him up for a ride, something about how he was officially not made for school and should be illegal for him to be up before 11A.M. I just eventually had to guilt him into taking me. I helped him cover his senior year party this last summer and I decided to call in my favor. I wasn't in the mood in being the only senior riding the bus. I preferred arriving when the school itself was still asleep.

My socks were a little wet. The rain hadn't stopped for a few days, and my chucks were soaked through. I ducked inside the building. Half the rooms were still dark, and parts of the school were still gated off. I nodded a smile to Rufus, the surly janitor. He always took the time to make sure the gate nearest my locker was opened first. I had beaten him to the space over 2 years ago, just waiting until the gate was opened. He said I could have just spoken up, but I didn't feel it was my place. Since then he'd just sort of done it.

My locker was on the second floor, in the quiet carpeted section of the history wing. I liked it. It was away from a lot of the noise that happened. It sometimes was difficult, depending on my schedule, but it was worth the extra distance. I opened my locker, already prepared from an earlier visit I made in the summer. Notebooks labeled in scheduled order. A map route of my class on the door, and teacher office times. I hung up my tan trench coat, shaking off the rain before, and hung my pack up. I pulled my items needed for first lessons, and plopped in front of my locker.

I loved the stillness when the school was like this. I inserted my headphones and pulled out a book for simple pleasure reading. I still had at least 45 minutes until the first warning bell.

I hated art. I was no good at it. I needed the art credit though, and I figured I could paint better than trying to make art on a computer. Still didn't mean I wasn't dreading this. Art class was always loud, out of focus. It didn't help that Dean Winchester was in this class either. Dean was a magnet for commotion. He was charismatic, funny, and completely untouchable. Golden boy, swim star, not hard on the eyes at all, and was actually pretty smart. I knew at the start I'd be unfocused with it being art, any notion I had of passing was thrown from the window when I saw Dean strut in the room.

Miss Tara, as she deemed what we were to call her, was fresh from college and ready to change teen lives. She was sweet, but I vaguely wondered if she was prepared for what she was getting herself into. We were seated in large space desks with adjustable angles and heights, and the desks were situated in quads around the room. I was in the furthest desk possible from the door. In my quad were mutual acquaintances I had: Kevin Tran, a transfer student last year, Meg Masters, an angry punk girl with boundaries that needed to be reminded daily, and Chuck, a twitchy little guy who always wafted the smell of smoke and a grubby notebook always within reach.

I observed the room as we "sketched" on our blank paper. The most I could do was stick figures and cartoons of badly drawn cats. I looked up to the clock above the door to check the time when I caught a glimpse of green. Dean's eyes were looking at me, flicking down to his page then back up.

I frowned thinking of the last time I had contact with him at all. Believe it or not, I use to be around the Winchesters in all the spare time I had as a child. They lived right down my street. Dean and I had been inseparable, little Sam tottering behind us. In middle school, Dean made it on his first sports team, and he started belonging to other people, obligations to other places. At first I wasn't bothered at all. I was proud Dean was my friend as I got to watch him thrive and open. But slowly I heard from him less and less, saw him almost never, until it trickled to me sitting alone in the back of the classroom one day, and I realized, as I heard his familiar laugh across the room, we were no longer friends.

That year had been the hardest of transitions. By the time we started high school, we didn't even acknowledge each other in the halls anymore. And time passed just like that. Him blasting out of his shell with no stopping, teacher's guilty favorite student, name on plaques won for races, nominations for prom king, and me, still the quiet awkward kid I was in middle school, headphone permanently in my ears, a shocking mess of black hair, and a gpa for valedictorian. The bell rang striking me out of my revere, and I gathered up my things. I nodded farewell to my tablemates, and danced around the scrapping of chairs. As I was about the go the door I found myself bounced hard back against the door. Dean's shoulder had collided against mine the hast, and the momentum smacked me into the wood.

"Whoa, sorry dude." His hand wrapped around my shoulder, straightening me upright. Green eyes and freckles filled my eyesight. I felt heat rush to my face; I ducked my head, mumbled thanks and rushed through.

I usually sit on my own for lunch, Kevin had caught up with me after 3rd period and tried to convince to sit with them, but I declined. I was never comfortable eating in front of crowd. I sat out on the tennis courts; no one used them during school hours anyway. I leaned against the fence, my headphones in trying to soak up the weak sunlight that was trying to come out. I felt the fence shake that happened when the door was opened and closed. I peaked open an eye to see Dean standing across the way. He gave a 2 fingered wave my way, I looked behind me to see if someone was in the lot, and no one was there. I heard a mumbling; I turned around and looked up at Dean standing right in front of me. I flicked a headphone out, "Huh?"

He smiled, teeth white, "I asked what you were doing sitting out here on your own."

"I…uh…I always do?" I looked around, seeing if Dean's friends were hiding somewhere. Was this a prank? Dean proceeded to fold his legs cross-ways in front of me, sitting like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"So….,"His eyes downcast, fingers fidgeting with his shoe laces, "how you been, Cas?"

"I…", I was stunned, confused? How about curious, or wary? I cleared my throat, "I've been okay. You?

"Can't believe it I made to senior year." He gave a self-depreciating laugh. I felt a small smile touch the corner of my mouth. That part of him hadn't changed.

"Yea, one year left and it's finally done." He raised an eyebrow at me. He leant back on his hands, shirt tightening over his pectorals. I hurriedly looked away before I was caught sizing him up.

"I know right," he swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing, " means I don't have a lot of time left."

"What do you mean?" I asked him. I looked up to see a very serious, knowing look on his face. I was then filled with cold anger. My eyes narrowed and I scoffed at him and went to pick up bag to leave. "Dean, this isn't worth your time."

"Cas, no, wait," I felt his hand wrap around my wrist. I could feel my anger swelling up inside me. This was pity. I did not want his pity. Fucking Gabriel, always opening his fucking mouth. "Just, just let me make it up to you. Please?"

I sighed, "No Dean, I don't need that from-"

"Bullshit, you don't."

"Fuck you, Dean! My guess you heard from Gabe," I saw his eyes flinch at my accusation, "I don't need your pity. Go back to your life, I'll go back to mine." I snatched my wrist from his hand and stalked off back to school. I was going to murder Gabe when I got back home.

Rest of the school day went by without a hitch, although that may have been because my mind was elsewhere. How dare he, I fumed to myself. My walk home calmed me a bit, it was longer than preferred but I needed to blow the steam before I blew a gasket. The sun was out, drying up the days of rain. I walked in my front door, we never locked it. "GABRIEL?! Where the hell are you?!"

I walked by the living room, Michael had his feet propped on the living room table, newspaper in hand, his eyes glanced over the paper, "What's going on, Castiel?"

"Gabriel is what's going on. Where is he?"

"I think he went out? Left a note saying he wasn't going to be back until tomorrow."

I pinched the bridge of my nose between my eyes, I could feel a migraine coming on. I saw the concern flash across Michael's face as he set his newspaper down, "Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm okay, I think I'm going to just go lay down. Is Lucifer or Anna going to be home tonight?"

"Anna should be by for dinner, and I think Luci works late tonight." I nodded, gave him a reassuring smile and headed upstairs to my room. I threw my bag to floor, and went to my desk, popping the orange prescription bottle open. My hands shook with pain as I dumped 2 pills in my hand. Swallowing them dry, I felt the tears pinch my eyes, and I dropped into my bed and sighed as I curled up. The migraines were getting worse, and there was nothing I could do.

I rarely dream, but when I do they're so vivid. All I saw was heated summer. The kind where you try to catch the heat waves off the pavement because you think it's tangible. The grass was dry and cresting golden brown, we laid in it anyway, staring at the open blue sky. The kind that is so clear you think you can actually make out the curve of the earth.

"I miss her." He said softly. I looked over, sandy hair buzzed short for the hear, green eyes directed at the sky. His lips were set tight, like he was trying to take back the words that flew from him.

"I know." Was all I could say. He turned his face to mine. Freckles blown across his cheeks, tinged pink from the excess of summer sun.

"I miss you." He said, this time his voice was deeper. And in a blink he was himself as he now was. A boy on the cusp of being a man. Body filled to almost full, wonder replaced by reality in his eyes.

"You don't." My voice sounding deeper as well, I raised my hands to see they too were broadened to the size of an almost adult.

"I always will." He whispered. I looked up to see him gone.

I lay on my bed, staring at my darkened ceiling. I slept through dinner. It was around 2 in the morning. Out window the sky was clear, moon was out and stars lighting up my neighborhood. I could hear Michael's snores from the other room. I got up and crept down stairs, the TV was left on, Luci was passed out in his work uniform, remote forgotten on the floor. I pulled the afghan our mother made, covering him before shutting the TV off. The house was quiet. I stood at the base of foyer. Taking it all in. Suddenly I felt overwhelmed, I loved them all so much I felt suffocated. I went out the door as quietly as I could. The whole neighbor quiet, asleep, and so still. It comforted me as much as scared me. I walked the block and a half down to the neighborhood park. There was a set of swings, a plastic castle, a see-saw. I sat on the swing, letting my toes drift in the sand.

I startled to find someone plopping into the swing next to mine.

"You shouldn't be out so late, Cas."

"That's rich, coming from you, Dean." I didn't look at him. He sat in his swing the opposite was of me. I heard him get up and the weight of his coat landed on me. I glared up at him.

"Are you going to stop being stubborn?"

I saw the frustrated look pass over his features by moonlight when I smirked.

"Damnit, Cas. Just let me in." He huffed, sitting back into the swing. The leather jacket was still warm from his heat, surrounded in his scent of motor oil, deodorant and sweat. I'd always love that smell. It smelled like Bobby, like Dean's house, Dean's room.

"Why should I? It doesn't matter."

"I want to make things right here. I…miss..us. I miss you." He starting pumping his legs, getting his swing to go higher.

"You don't always get what you want. We were friends once, we are not anymore." I stood up to lay his jacket over the seat. He dug his feet in the sand and swung around. I suddenly remembered how big he was now. He was only an inch or two taller, but he was so much broader now.

"I was a stupid kid, Cas. I was an idiot. It took me until now that I always had this chance, so I'm taking action."

"Until now?" I laughed, I knew he didn't like the way it sounded. "The only reason you're here is because Gabe opened his big mouth to Sam. Don't try to sound noble. I said before, I don't want your pity."

"Tell me what to do, what to say to make you believe me? Yes, Gabe told. But you should have."

"Yeah, right. You haven't so much looked at me in 3 years." I fought back. I didn't want it to be easy. Part of me was dying to just forgive. But I needed the anger. I needed the fire.

"Cas," he took a step closer to me, his arms wrapping around me, I didn't move, "I am so sorry."

"Don't…don't, Dean." I felt myself weakening. Damn him, "I can't have regrets. I can't."

He pulled back, a smile on his face, "Then don't."

It had been about a month since he reached out at the park that night. He waved to me in school, asked how I was. But a couple times a week now we'd sneak out, meet at the park, and stay until dawn. I noticed my grades were slipping already. I didn't care. I was at the swings early this night, I came out after dinner with my siblings, needing some space. Gabriel had a knack for being too much to handle most times. Dean strolled up soon after dusk, hands in his coat pockets. He sat in the swing at my side.

"Needed to get out too?" He asked. I nodded, "Cas, how much?"

I turned to look at him, we never broached the subject though I knew since the tennis courts that was the question that plagued him most. My shoulders fell, it was a question I was praying he wouldn't ask. I swallowed as I looked down at my feet, all swinging stopped, "Not enough."

I heard him snort, "Well, that's a no brainer."

"Thanks, Dean." I retorted drily.

"Seriously though, how much?"

I sighed, suddenly exhausted, "Why is it important, Dean?"

He was suddenly quieter, I looked up to him, green eyes boring into mine, "You are important, Cas, believe it or not."

I looked away from his intense gaze, frowning, I swallowed back the tears that were threatening to spill. Damn emotions, I wanted to numb them, "Maybe summer."


	2. Chapter 2

"Maybe summer"

His voice kept drumming through my ears. He sounded so indifferent. I watched his silhouette as he walked further down the street to his house. I could hear Bobby inside watching the game, and I couldn't quite go inside just yet. Bobby and Sam always could read my face. I haven't figured out how to hide from them.

I felt like such a dick. A complete and honest dick. It took for Gabe to tell me that Cas was dying for me to get my head out of my ass. Cas was the best I could have had as a kid, and I threw it away for popularity. On this side of the situation, it seems so dumb I let that get in the way. Cas was there for me when it mattered most. When Mom and Dad passed, Bobby moving in, Sam not completely understanding what happened. Cas was there. And the first chance I got, like an asshole, I jumped ship.

When I got on the middle school swim starters team I was ecstatic. There hadn't been much other than my family and Cas that I had to myself. But swimming? It felt good to be a part of something, to belong somewhere, to not be the kid with the dead parents. I let it get to my head, teammates would always wonder why I hung around 'that weird guy'. At first I would defend Cas, but slowly I just stopped until I didn't see Cass anymore. As more time went on, I just figured Cas wouldn't ever forgive me, why would he? But then Gabe came over.

For some reason Gabe never disappeared from our house like Cas's gradual fade. He never missed an opportunity to give me shit about it though. I would ask how Cas was, and he snarkily reply for me to ask him myself. I would shrug him off as I'd leave the dining room and he'd go back to being tutored by a kid 5 years younger than him. At the beginning of the year when I overheard Gabe telling Sam about Cas, I couldn't help but listen. I froze in the hall outside of the living room, listening to Gabe talk about how Cas's condition had worsened, how he limited time, and the doctor's have tried anything.

Condition? What condition? I wanted to storm in there and demand for Gabe to tell me everything. Even if Cas and I hadn't spoken for years, I still cared. How I could I not? I tried as hard as I could with my social status to make sure Cas was never subject to bullying, even though snide remarks about him within my group happened often, for what I could see nothing had culminated of them. I would always be attuned if he was in the room. Black hair always in a just-rolled-out-bed look, clearest blue eyes I'd ever seen, and pale skin that stretched forever the more he grew. He stayed thin and lithe, never seeming to gain the muscle that I did. He was always hooked up to his headphones, never a part of anything in school, and a book in his hand.

"Maybe summer." Kept drilling in my head. How was I so stupid to let years slip away, and now confirmed by Cas himself his time was short. I pulled my hair in frustration. He never talked about it. I didn't want to push with our friendship on thin ice; it was building, but was it enough? There was still so much of him that was familiar, but I found myself noticing more now that I've allowed myself to be closer. Like how pale and smooth the section of neck that shows in his v-neck t-shirts looks, how long his lashes are, black and soft against his sharp cheekbones, or that his ass fills jeans better than some girls. And then I have to shake my head because those kinds of thoughts are causing all sorts of confusing messages in my body.

I hear Bobby shut off the TV and go down the hall to his room I assume. I gauge that it's safe to go inside, and lock the door behind me. I glance in the dining room to see Sammy scratching away on his homework.

"Hey, dude." I walk past him to the fridge to get a soda.

"Hey," he said distracted, as he turned a book page, "how was Castiel?"

I shrugged, "He's fine, I guess. Nothing really new."

Sam put down his pencil slowly and turned to face me, chewing on his bottom lip as he studied me, eyes squinted, "Nothing new?"

"Nope, nothing new." I needed to cut this short. I couldn't face Cas's time in the open yet. "Don't stay up too late, little man"

"I'm not little. I'll hit my growth spurt soon, jerk."

"Bitch." I smirked going around the corner and up the stairs to my room. Least some things don't change.

It was nearing Halloween, and I wanted to ask Cas what he was doing. All of my swim friends have been trying to get a solid answer from me if I was going to Lisa's bash, but I wasn't sure if I wanted my last high school Halloween spent like I spent the rest of them. I watched Cas from afar in art. It never seemed like he talked much to his tablemates, and I never saw him with anyone at lunch. Did Cas have any friends? I couldn't conjure up a face of anyone I saw with him, other than the occasional glimpse of Kevin Tran talking to Cas in the hall.

It's started getting chilly at night, and the late night park visits have gotten less and less. Swim practice started taking up more of my after school time, and night to homework with Sammy. Without the grades, I couldn't stay on the team. I watched Cas stroll out the lunch doors outside, presumably to the tennis courts again. After pushing my mostly full tray of food to the middle of the table, I got up to follow him. My friends gave me some strange looks, but I ignored them for now.

The sky was crappy and overcast, and there was a pretty chilly light wind blowing. I saw Cas's dark huddle on the courts across the lot. I jogged over and entered, the fence metal biting my fingers. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I approached him. He looked asleep, I could hear heavy rock blasting in his headphones. How was he not deaf?

"Hey, Cas!" I shook his arm as I plopped down next to him. He startled, a funny shout from his lips.

"Jesus, Dean. Scared the crap out of me." He pulled the sleeves of his hoodie over his hands, his legs up under the fabric.

"What are doing out here? It's getting pretty cold."

"I don't like the noise." I laughed.

"The noise? What about what you're listening to? I could feel my ears bleeding from how loud it was." He smiled, I felt warmth swell in my chest. I liked making him smile.

"What are you doing for Halloween?" I looked down so he couldn't make eye contact. I noticed since rekindling this thing he can still tell when I'm nervous, or lying, or anything else for that matter.

"Halloween? Uh…I don't know I guess. Hadn't really thought about it. We stopped doing candy for kids because Gabe kept eating it all before kids could get to us."

I snorted, Gabe. "You could…" I coughed, "…you could come to our house."

"Your house?"

"Yea, you know, if you wanted…just watch movies or something. Sammy's too old for trick or treating."

"What about Lisa Braeden's party?"

I looked up to see Cas looking intently at his shoes, his brow furrowed in a concentrated look. He was picking at some scuffed rubber on the sole. "What about the party?"

He looked at me, blue eyes skeptical, dark eyebrow raised, "The fact you go every year?"

I grinned, "How do you know I go every year?"

This was a new game we seem to play. Ever since we've been on speaking terms again, we try to catch how much the other was keeping tabs. It was refreshing honestly, and relieving for me. I felt less like a psycho with Cas wondering how I was while we had years apart. I saw the pink flush his cheeks as he tucked his face down into the hoodie. "I just don't feel like it this year. It's my last year, and last with Sammy before I graduate. Just kinda wanted to bum at home. Watch scary movies, see if I can freak Sammy out for a month."

"That sounds like fun." He said quietly, but his cheeks were lifted to his eyes, though I couldn't see his mouth, I knew he was smiling again.

"Soooo, means you wanna come over? Help me in my mission to scare Sammy."

He looked down again, thoughtful. He was always thinking, blue eyes always clouded, "Yea, sure. That'd be nice."

"Awesome, I'll tell Sam. He'll be stoked." I leant back against the fence next to him. And as I relaxed in the companionable quiet, Cas's arm against mine, I felt a sense of calm I hadn't felt in a long time. There was nowhere else I'd rather be at this moment.


End file.
